


Heahmund's Beginnings

by NotWhoIAppearToBe



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Entering the priesthood, F/M, Guilt, M/M, Teenage Heahmund, Young Heahmund, losing virginity, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotWhoIAppearToBe/pseuds/NotWhoIAppearToBe
Summary: This entire fic is made up of my own headcanon regarding Bishop Heahmund. It's the backstory I have created for him starting with him as a teenager, how he ends up entering the priesthood and so forth.
Relationships: Heahmund (Vikings)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Teenage Heahmund

He was not the eldest so he was not encumbered with a title or lands or the responsibilities that came with that. As the 3rd son and the youngest child of 5, his life was one carefree gaiety and fulfilling whatever desire crossed his mind. 

He would often mock his older brothers for they would be trapped with their father learning about the duty they each had to marry and marry well to increase their families holdings. His sisters were to be married off to families of good name and respectable fortunes while he got to continue his daily pursuits of whatever he felt like doing.

Young Lord Heahmund of Somersetshire lived a life of excess and he reveled in it. There was nothing wrong with how he chose to spend his days. He was as educated as his brothers (though he often thought himself far more intelligent than they were for what took them days to learn only took him a matter of hours at most). He could easily best them all when they practiced with their swords. His brothers lacked his finesse and speed. Though they were older than him, he was as tall as they were and certainly quicker. He often would rub it in their faces that he could easily dispatch them all in less time than it took them to sheathe their swords. 

He was young, brash and cocky.

He attended church and celebrations of the venerated saints and the Holy Mother, as all good Christians must but he had to admit that he sometimes found these days dull and looked forward to when it was all over so he could return to his days of doing whatever struck his fancy. Riding. Swordplay. Hunting. Mocking his brothers. 

It wasn’t until he had passed almost 15 summers that his life changed. 

It was to be another feast in honor of the marriage of his eldest sister. At almost 17 summers, it was well past time for her to marry and have a family of her own, at least according to his mother who often despaired she would remain a spinster. It was one thing for a man to marry later in life but for a woman to be almost 17 and not be married? Whispers would soon have surfaced had she remained a maiden much longer. Whispers of the unflattering kind. 

He did not mind the feasts he was forced to attend. He liked the food, the dancing, the spectacle and most of all, he enjoyed looking at the ladies. He enjoyed their soft curves flattered by the gowns they wore, the luscious swell of their breasts in their dresses and most of all, the way they would look at him and tease him. At almost 15, he was a man in his own mind. It was at the wedding feast where he first learned of the pleasures of the flesh.

The feast was everything he imagined it would be. The food was superb, the music and dancing entertaining and the couple looked happy. None of that mattered to Heahmund. As he sat next to a lady of high birth and if his information was correct, married, he felt her hand on his thigh. Surprised, he looked at her as she gave him a coy smile. He continued to have a conversation with others around them as she softly stroked his thigh, slowly moving towards the inner part of it.

He knew what she was hinting at despite her husband sitting at the same table. When she stood and excused herself, he had to restrain himself from bolting up and following her. The following minutes were the longest of his life as he tried to pretend all was well. Fortune smiled on him as couples started to get up and dance allowing him the opportunity to escape and look for her.

It takes him minutes to track her down to his father’s private salon, the room aglow with only a few candles.

No words are exchanged as the lady takes charge knowing full well he lacks experience. There in his father’s salon and across his desk, Heahmund experiences what it feels to finally be with a woman.

It was his first experience but certainly not his last.

Over the course of the next few months, Heahmund finds himself agreeable to joining several ladies when their husbands or escorts are away. He enjoys it as do they so what harm was there in this pleasurable pastime?

  
  


It’s winter when his father calls him in to have a serious talk about his future. He knows things are serious when he sees his father and brothers waiting for him with grim expressions on their faces and his mother in tears. When she leaves the room and closes the door behind her, his father does something he had never done before in his life. Without warning, Heahmund feels the sharp sting on his cheek and hears a crack as his father hits him. 

It would be the first and only time he raised his hand to Heahmund.

“You fool. You stupid fool. Did you think your debauchery would go unnoticed?”

“I don’t understand…”   
  


“Lord Whitmore is accusing YOU of being his wife’s lover. I won’t even bother asking you if this is true because we already know the truth of the matter. Not only that, there are whispers that other lords are now suspicious of you with their wives.”

Heahmund says nothing. What could he say? The allegations would all be true. They thought they had been discreet but servants talk and all of the ladies were of high birth and rank. His own actions would be the disgrace and downfall of his family. For the first time in his life, he felt shame.

“What can I do to fix this? Duel? Apologize? Whatever you say, I’ll do it.”

His father pierces him with a shrewd look. One only a father can manage when he’s already managed to retain the upper hand without even trying.

“As a matter of fact, there is one thing you /will/ do Heahmund. I have managed to convince the lords that you were not responsible and that if their wives cuckolded them, it was on their own heads for not keeping them under a firm hand. No man wants it to be known that his wife had lovers especially one half their own age.”

Remaining at his desk, he gives Heahmund a cold smile, eager to have this matter over with and his hands washed of this small stain on the family reputation.

“The servants are currently packing what little you will need. Tonight, you begin your journey. You will travel to Lindisfarme to begin your studies. After today, you are no longer the son of nobility. You will train to become a priest.”


	2. Lindisfarne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heahmund arrives in Lindisfarne and things are not going as he expected. How long will his self-denial last?

The carriage swayed as Heahmund sat, still shocked over the events that had transpired days before. There had been no reasoning with his father. With the threat of scandal looming, his father had done the only thing that could salvage the family name and honor and perhaps instill some form of dignity and self-worth in his youngest son. He knew they would be arriving by late afternoon to Lindisfarne. His life was changing in ways he had never imagined. He always imagined he would spend his days doing exactly as he pleased and perhaps one day, find a wealthy heiress to marry and continue his wanton ways. He had not expected his promiscuous ways to catch up to him and this to have happened. He was Heahmund of Somersetshire, son of a Lord. How could this have happened to him? The closer they got to their destination, the more his damn conscious decided to rear it’s ridiculous and moral head. He was currently quite angry at his conscious. Where had it been when he was off enjoying his affairs with married and titled ladies of the land? Not once had it decided to pop up and warn him of all the possible consequences of his actions. As far as Heahmund was concerned, his conscious had failed him and was utterly useless.

He dozes off and on as they continue their travel to Lindisfarne waking only when he’s roused.

“Master. It’s time.”

The carriage driver urges him awake. Bleary eyed and still tired, he’s surprised to find half a dozen young men close to his age all shivering and looking at him. He’s the only one amongst them dressed in finery. The only son of a noble. The rest were sons of peasants sent to become monks and priests as their families could not afford to have more mouths to feed or they came willingly because there was no other place for them to go. Heahmund carefully steps out of the carriage, looking around and wondering where he was to go. He sees nothing except the distant outline of an island. 

“Time to board! Get up! Come on! I ain't got all day!”

The man shouting is pointing to his small boat that will be used to transport the boys to...where?

“I beg your pardon. Where is Lindisfarne?”

He speaks in his elegant and cultivated voice, wondering where on earth they are. His irritation grows when he’s ignored. All the other boys are climbing awkwardly into the boat, Heahmund being the last one in.

“Go on then! Pick up a bleedin’ oar and start rowin!”

The man’s instructions prick through his shock. They were expected to...row themselves? Was he joking? His musings are quickly disrupted when the man tosses an oar in his direction. It’s pure instinct that has him reaching out to grasp it quickly before it can hit him in the face. The man starts to push the boat out and yells out his instructions to the boys as they all attempt to work in unison to get to the island that looms closer with each stroke of their oars in the water.

The mist of fog surrounding the island gives off a distinct aura of foreboding. Heahmund rows but his thoughts are on what awaits him. The boys are peasants, clad in trousers and woolen cloaks while he’s clothed in the finest and most comfortable clothing and a fur lined cloak. He’s expected to somehow fit in with them? This has to be a joke. A new thought suddenly rears its head, one that gives him hope. Perhaps this was all just a temporary ruse. His father had likely sent him here for the appearance of becoming a priest until enough time has passed and the scandal was a thing of the past. Surely that was the plan. He just had not told Heahmund because he had to keep the pretense up. He could do that. He could keep up the charade and go through the motions, do the prayer things and all that nonsense. Until his father called him back, he could keep up the pretense. He’d learn to be more discreet and circumspect. He’d learn to not draw attention to himself. His father was right in that respect. He’d been too brash but he had learned.

They keep rowing, slowly moving closer and closer to a small sandy beach with a tiny dock. The fog does not lift no matter how close they get the beach. The fog on top of the hills was dense, like a thick soup you were forced to gaze into. Shivering slightly, he feels the boat bump into the dock before they’re being yelled at again and ushered out of the boat. Once on the dock, they all wait, unsure of what to do. In the distance, he sees a hooded figure standing.

“Look. Over there. I think we’re supposed to follow him.”

All the boys turn and one by one, pick up their small bags of belongings and make their way to the man. He doesn’t say a word to them, merely turns around and starts walking down a path that forces them to climb up a hill. They’re all breathless, sweaty, tired and hungry by the time they make it up the hill. The fog stubbornly refused to lift.

More men in robes await them in a courtyard, all silent. No one speaks, the silence in the courtyard thrums in their ears. Only the distant roar of the waves of the ocean break the quiet. Another man comes out, the only one to speak.

“Gentlemen. Welcome to Lindisfarne. You have come at the end of a period of silence. By tomorrow, proper introductions will be made. For now, please follow me. We have a simple meal prepared for you and then one of our brothers will show you where you will reside during this initial period of trial. Leave your belongings here. They will be taken care of for you.” 

They’re led into the castle, surprise lighting his features as he looks around. He wasn’t joking. Simple was the byword. A piece of bread and stew that consisted mostly of some vegetables and tiny slivers of what he thought would be beef but couldn’t be sure. Water was given though he was tempted to ask if they had wine. He had to remind himself to endure. He would do what was asked of him without complaint until his father sent for him. 

In his estimation, this forced time away would last perhaps six months. Maybe a year but that was alright. He would return a smarter man and take better care with his dalliances. He’d even marry when the time was right to a woman of good breeding and wealth to make up for what he had done.

In his own mind, the matter was settled. It was all just up to him to wait this out and bide his time.

He notices some of the boys rubbing their eyes, yawning and one was almost asleep at the table. He too was tired but he would never be that rude. On cue, their bowls were cleared and they were signaled to follow one of the men.

He leads them down a hall, dank and lit only by torches. When they reach the end of the hall, he unlocks a door and guides them inside. It’s a large rectangular room with no windows and one large fireplace already lit giving off heat and warmth.. There are several beds laid out with a small table next to each bed. On each small stand was one candle. On each bed is a shift, simple but clean. They’re unsure of what to do until Heahmund rolls his eyes and takes charge. Without speaking, he goes to one of the beds and starts to undress. Taking their cue from him, the other boys start to do the same. Once they’re all dressed in their shifts, another robed figure enters and takes their clothing from them. Probably to be washed is what Heahmund thinks. The only man to speak finally enters and smiles at all of them.

“Rest young brothers for tomorrow, your work and studies will begin. For now, this room is yours for the duration of this initial period. Chamber pots are provided behind the screens at the other end of the room for your convenience. Good night brothers.”

With those words, the monks all leave the room. There’s the distinct sound of clicking, a lock. Heahmund rushes to the door and tries to open it but is unable to.

“Locked. They locked us inside.”

The other boys all stare at him, unsure of what to say or do. Again, Heahmund finds himself taking charge of them.

“Go to sleep. This is a place of God so they will wake us early, be certain of that.”

He goes to his bed and lifts the covers before sliding in, sighing as he finds some small comfort in the clean linens. The only sound in the room is the soft rustle of boys settling in and getting comfortable. He’s almost asleep when he hears the distinct sound of someone crying. The cries are soft but unmistakable. He tries to ignore it but it’s almost impossible. Frustrated, he sits up in bed and looks around for the culprit. 

“You there. Stop your sniffling. We are all here and have to make the best of it. You’re a man now start acting like one. Your crying will get you nothing except the back of my hand if you keep disturbing my sleep.”

Blowing out his candle, he turns around and attempts to fall asleep again. He’s satisfied that his words worked. There is silence in the room. It never occurs to him to ask any of their names or why they’re there. It doesn’t occur to him to ask the young man why he was crying. As far as Heahmund was concerned, the boy and all the others were beneath him. He was here merely for a temporary penance before he returned to his normal life.

With thoughts of going back home, he finally falls asleep. 


	3. Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heahmund has to learn to adjust and adapt to life in Lindisfarne but his attitude towards the others won't garner him any favors.

The sun has not even risen when their door is unlocked and monks stream in leaving robes and sandals for each of the boys. They’re awakened and told to quickly dress. Vigils would be beginning soon. Bleary eyes, there are plenty of yawns and groans from all the boys. None of them are used to rising that early. Stifling any complaints, Heahmund does as he’s told and gives glares at the others, daring them to complain. Heaven help them if they dragged their feet.

The more he thought about things, the more he accepted that he had to play the role and play it well. He didn’t just have to accept that he was here for the time being. He had to pretend as if he was here in heart and spirit. If that meant pushing the others so that they did not bring him down, so be it.

They were guided to the chapel and made to stand at attention while the other brothers prayed. No further instructions were given so Heahmund did not see or understand what the purpose of all this was. A test? Very likely. He rolled his eyes once and stood there silently, not moving for what felt like an eternity. To help pass the time, he looked around at the small chapel, taking note that it was rather nice compared to what he had seen so far of Lindisfarne. They lived rather plain and simple lives here but what limited wealth they held was here. The crosses looked to be gold and some inlaid with precious stones. The benches were a rather nice wood and the front ones had cushions. The altar itself was a thing of beauty. It wasn’t made of stone like most others. This one seemed to have an inlay of marble? He thought that was what it was. His mind reached back to something his mother had told him about Lindisfarne. A few times a year, they opened their doors and allowed families to visit and attend. While the rooms they were given were spare and only had the necessities, the chapel itself was always the center of their world for here is where God resided and the monks felt that he was owed this splendor. Or at least that’s what he took out of her words.

After what seemed like a lifetime to Heahmund, they’re taken to a different room for  _ Lectio Divinaat _ . To his surprise, Heahmund is given a Bible and told to read and reflect on one particular passage. The other boys listen to a different brother reading scripture to them. After he’s done, they have to sit quietly and reflect on what they listened to. Carefully, Heahmund reads then frowns. He reads again and this time, he clenches his jaw at the words.

“For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world.”

He knows he’s being looked at while he reads and knows he needs to keep calm. He closes his eyes and for anyone who were to glance at him, they would think that he was in deep contemplation. In reality, he was angry at them and felt no guilt or remorse for his enjoying what they called ‘lust of the flesh’ because damn them, it felt good. It felt good and as soon as he was gone from this wretched place, he would indulge in more sins of the flesh in every manner possible.

His ruminations are interrupted by the damn bell again. Now it would be time for Lauds. He can hear his stomach protesting and knows the other boys are feeling the same way based on the sounds their stomachs made and how some were rubbing their abdomens. They return to the chapel and he counts himself fortunate that he actually knows Latin and can chant along with the brothers as the prayers are said. The other boys look at him, some with awe and others with contempt. As the son of a Lord, of course he would have been educated and taught to speak Latin. He ignores them and holds his head high, pretending he doesn’t notice the looks he gets from some of the other monks who have been studying for years and still are not as fluent as he is. Languages came naturally to Heahmund, a fact he did not mind exploiting.

Finally their prayers are over for the time being and the bell rings for breakfast. They’re led into the dining hall, a long and rather large room lit with candles. They’re all seated and wait for the abbott to enter. When he does and gives a short prayer giving thanks, they’re all invited to sit and eat. It’s a silent meal as they indulge in porridge and bread. Again, a simple meal but Heahmund is too famished to care or even complain. He is starting to relax a little when the bell rings again and some of the brothers gesture for the boys to follow him.

For the first time since he’s arrived, Heahmund is shocked. They boys are made to work. All the others adapt easily for it’s manual labor they’re used to. Feeding the livestock, caring for them, gardening, cleaning. Heahmund has never done actual work in his life. Holding a long stick thing with sharp points at the end, he stares at the cows and then at the hay wondering what in gods name he was supposed to do. Stab the cow? Is that how they get meat?

“Just follow my lead. You’ll get the hang of it real quick.”

He looks up and sees one of the other boys working in the barn with him. He’s agile and has no difficulty with the task.

“Go on. Follow my movements. We have to feed them all. When we’re done, we milk them. Then we move on to the goats and do the same. That’s our job today. One of the brothers told me we rotate. Everyday we do something different.”

Heahmund nods slightly, still a little shell-shocked over this rather odd turn of events. Why had he always thought that the life of a holy man was nothing but prayer and preaching? It doesn’t take him long to learn the movements and he’s able to work quickly with his new partner. Milking the cows was a new experience for him as he ended up on his arse as the horse swatted him with his tail. The other boy starts laughing and after a long moment, Heahmund laughs too. 

“Bloody cow. You’re going to be my dinner one day. Just you wait.”

“Ah, Heahmund. Don’t blame the cow. You’re pretty bloody useless, if you don’t mind me sayin’”

He would have been offended if it weren’t so true. He wasn’t cut out for this work. He was the son of a Lord.

“I’m Merec.”

Heahmund nods. He didn’t care about learning anyone’s names for he didn’t expect to be here long but perhaps he should put a little more effort into getting to know some of the others here. Really his play his part well.

They work in silence as they finish with the cows and then move on to the goats. When they’re finished, they’re directed back to the chapel. Heahmund looks forward to more prayers. He can take a breather and sit, maybe close his eyes and take a short break. His thoughts are broken when he’s given a pail and each of them given a brush.

“I’m sorry. We have to what now? Scrub the floors of the chapel?”

The brother merely nods and leaves them to begin. Resigned to the menial chores, he begins to scrub, cursing his father for sending him here. His thoughts are interrupted by Merec keeping up a steady stream of chatter. He tries to ignore him but eventually, he begins to listen.

“...so there we were. My father gone and me mum left with me and a bump beneath her apron. Well she didn't survive the birthin and I couldn’t keep the cottage and farm. That’s how I found myself here. They don’t turn anyone away. I pray and go to church. What difference will this be right?”

“Wait. You’re telling me you’re here because your father left and your mother died in childbirth. You are here not because it was your life calling but because it was the only choice you had left in your life?”

There’s a small beat of silence before Merec responds.

“You talk real fancy like. Must be from being a Lord. We all heard of you. Before you got to the boat, there was talk that the son of a Lord was gonna be joining us. We couldn’t believe it. It’s not often the sons of lords join unless they’re in trouble or not gonna inherit or they get disowned. Which one were you?”

Heahmund wants to be angry but he can’t. Compared to Merec, he really had no right to be angry over how he got to be there. In a low voice, he admits to Merec part of why he was there.

“I sort of got into trouble. I’m the youngest of five and this seemed like the best way to keep me out of trouble and teach me discipline. You won’t tell the others will you?”

He’s earnest in his question. He really doesn’t want the others to know what landed him here.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I don’t talk much. I won’t tell. Come on. We need to finish up before those bells ring again.”

Scrubbing harder, they work in silence until the bells ring and they’re herded to Eucharist. More praying. How many times was he expected to pray each day? Their lunch is quiet and he’s already longing for it to be bedtime. He’s tired and wants to get some sleep. At home, he would often rest whenever the mood struck. This schedule did not appeal to him. He was expecting more prayers after lunch but is surprised that it’s more work for them though for Heahmund, the work is a surprise. All the boys are ushered into a room with tables and chairs. They’re seated before the abbot and other monks enter. 

“One of the most important things we do here is transcription and prayers. For that, you need to learn to read and write. Only Heahmund has this skill. For the next few months, you will all be learning this valuable skill if you are to better yourselves as men of God. Heahmund, you will help the brothers of this order in teaching them. You will listen to their instructions and help as needed.”

“Of course abbott. I will help in any way I can.”

As the abbott leaves, Heahmund still can’t believe things. He was not a teacher and he was expected to help teach these peasants how to read? What sort of joke was being pulled on him. So he slept with a few married women. What was the big deal? His punishment was getting exceedingly cruel and he didn’t do anything wrong!

Once again the bells rang and once again they trudge back to the chapel for Vespers and then  _ Lectio Divina _ again. Supper is then followed by a short recreation period that he takes full advantage of by going back to their chambers and going to sleep until Merec wakes him up.

“Hurry! Heahmund, we’re going to miss Compline.”

Groaning, he reluctantly gets up and hurries so that they don’t miss services. At long last, the day is over and all Heahmund can think of is a bath, sleep and ignoring the blooming realization that this will be his life for the next few moons. He’d have to write to his father as soon as possible. There had to be another way of making up for his mistakes. A better way that did not involve the ridiculous rules of the order.

  * The Vow of Poverty
  * The Vow of Chastity
  * The Vow of Obedience



If they thought Heahmund was going to follow this, they had another thing coming. 


End file.
